Into My Arms
by Angryhamsterenergy
Summary: After being torn apart by the war, Nellie Daniels and John Shelby are reunited in their hometown of Small Heath. Inseparable once again, Nellie wonders whether they could continue what once might have been. But soon, they discover that the will of Tommy Shelby might just start another war in Birmingham. HIATUS
1. Synopsis

_Please don't be in love with somebody else._

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After being torn apart by the war, Nellie Daniels and John Shelby are reunited in their hometown of Small Heath. Inseparable once again, Nellie wonders whether they could continue what once might have been. But soon, they discover that the will of Tommy Shelby might just start another war in Birmingham

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John Shelby OC

Season 1 -


	2. Storms

_She used to believe that love should feel like a storm, passionate, raw and raging._

_But so many storms have come and left her more broken than before_

_Now, she looks for a love that feels like a night after the storm is over."_

_\- Cynthia Go / The calm after the storm_

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**Nellie Daniels**

_Nov. 1919_

The thunder was loud and echoed as she walked; but still she was quiet, wondering whether the horses found comfort in her presence and the muttered Romani prayers she shared with them during the storm. Curly had finally fallen asleep and she didn't want to wake him after easing his concerns about the night. A sign. He'd said. A bad one at best. But Eleanor knew the only sign the weather held was that winter was on its way.

Still, she was worried about the beasts in their care - her father had always warned her that storms encouraged the wildness of horses and the sight of the whites of their eyes as she past them in the stable did little to soften his words. As he predicted, the thunder had rallied the beasts like a battle cry and they stomped and snorted in anger and fear.

Softly she continued her gypsy words, brushing her hands firmly along their sides in the darkness. She wasn't sure how long she'd been there when lightening struck Charlie's yard, the flash carving through the night like a whip against flesh. Beyond the stable doors Nellie could make out two solitary figures, stumbling along like blind men in the dark. Leaning into each other for support.

Never one to be reckless, she picked up a shotgun, left for Curly by one of the Shelby boys to protect the illegal goods they ferried through the docks.

The sound of the injured man falling to the floor was masked by thunder as she stepped forward into the night, shotgun firm in hand and raised to greet them.

''What business do you have here?" She shouted, cocking the gun, her right fingers curled around the trigger.

Rain drissled over her forehead and she struggled to make out the faces of her new companions. The two men looked like any other pair from Small Heath in their matching hats and black coats. No doubt drunk, she thought, lost on their way home with no idea they'd just strolled onto Shelby property.

"Your names." She repeated, louder as her voice cut through the storm.

"Drop the fucking gun Nell." A familiar voice groaned.

Her arms did not falter as she held her aim, the taller man tried to step forward but staggered, almost dropping his companion on the floor.

Nellie's arm shook, unsure in her judgement of the intruders.

"Drop the gun." The tall man spoke again. His face concealed by his hat, Nellie recognised something in its nature that remind her of her childhood.

With another strike of lightening flashing across the sky, she almost dropped the gun.

"Harry?" Her disbelief was immediately clear as she looked towards the brother she hadn't seen since he'd disappeared 5 years ago to join a reckless war. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Even through the darkness she could see the start of a grin through his grimaces, "I could say the same to you."

In one swift motion, Eleanor raced to embrace her brother, careful not to squeeze him too hard when he groaned at her weight. Shaking her head she noticed that the other man was a boy she had sworn she would never forget, John Shelby, hunched over and leaning on the eldest Daniels for support.

John grunted uncomfortably in pain, clearly delirious as the rain continued to fall around them and Eleanor released them both carefully.

"What the hell have you done to him?" She asked, securing an arm around the Shelby's waist to drag them both towards the shelter of the stables.

A warm glow seeped from the building into the night. Harry could almost forget about the events of the evening. Almost. But the sight of his sister helped him to drag his brother in arms across the yard.

"Just a Street fight. Nothing more." he grumbled, ignoring the unbelieving glare he was receiving from Nell next to him.

"Here." She said softly once they were back inside. "Put him down here. I'll have to call Poll-"

"No-" Harry stopped her, placing a cool hand on her own. Only when Nell looked down did she see that it was covered in blood.

"Why not?" she asked, albeit dropping her hand once again to check up on John.

"She'll tell Tommy." He grunted taking his cap off, finally being able to shake the rain from his dark brown hair.

Nell raised an eyebrow but didn't question him, turning to John, stripping off his heavy jacket to assess the damage.

He had a a few slashes across his chest and a nasty wound near his eyebrow which Nell suspected had been inflicted by the blunt end of a knife or gun. When she pushed slightly against his chest he gasped suddenly and she glared towards her brother.

"Bloody Peaky Blinders." She cursed, "Didn't you almost get killed enough in France?"

Harry knew not to reply to his sister. It had been evident from a young age that she'd reserved a special place in her heart for the third Shelby brother. Ever since they'd stumbled into each other on the first day of school they'd been inseparable, until the war that was. And Harry still didn't know what had come between them in the years that followed because while they never had been together--, by god, they could have been.

"Curly!" She yelled, waking the man from his sleep. She told him quickly to call for Ada and Arthur; her eyes and mind focused more on the Shelby boy than the stable-hand.

"-and not Tom." Harry confirmed shaking a finger at Curly as he lit a cigarette, ignoring the roll of his sisters eyes.

"Fetch me some cloth and water. " Nell pressed her brother, quickly tying her curls on top of her head and lifting John's head onto her lap.

"Yes ma'am." he replied sarcastically but carried out her wishes when he noted blood seeping from John's head into Nellie's clothes.

Carefully she washed some of the blood and sweat from his forehead, sweeping his matted hair from his eyes.

"John." She murmered, "John? Can you hear me?"

She watched as he groaned loudly rolling his head towards the sound of her voice. He was incredibly pale against the black of Small Heaths sky.

"John?"

"Nell?" At her warm touch, the sound of her voice pulled him to raise his head, wincing at it pounded back at him.

"Nell?" he asked again, more cohorently this time as the shock at seeing his childhood friend cleared his head. "What.. What are you doing in Small Heath? I thought you'd gone-"

He flinched as the brunette lay a cold towel over his forehead. Harry perched himself next to them and pulled John's shirt up to observe the damage his sister had seen.

"Shit." Harry grimaced sighing defeatedly, "Tommy's going to kill me."

Nellie grabbed John's hand as she began to remove his shirt,cleaning the cuts along his his torso as she went.

Through a gaze of confusion and pain John studied her for a moment, his brows creased together in both pain and concentration.

Truth be told, John Shelby thought that if it wasn't for her eyes he might not have recognised the Daniels girl. Her curls, once matted and unruly, softly fell in dark brown ringlets around her face which had lost its childhood chubbiness. Not a day went by in which he did not think of Nellie Daniels and yet still, like most of his family in the last five years, she had changed so much.

"Harry said you'd got out of this shit hole." he murmered, eyes flicking towards the bullets of water that fired down from the dark sky outside the barn and back towards the curly hair of the girl he'd thought he'd lost forever.

"Not fast enough I guess." For the first time she smiled, her hand settling still in his hair - and it was as if John was sixteen again, laughing carelessly with the girl he thought he'd spend the rest of his life with.

He coughed grimacing at the pain he could feel gripping his stomach.

"How's Harry?" He asked eyes shifting to her brother. The latter moved to stand above John's head, his mouth raised up in a smirk:

"You took quite the beating back there for me mate."

"Never mess with a Peaky fucking Blinder." John wheezed at the Daniels siblings, ignoring the pain

"-Clearly... He's alive." Nellie answered, pushing John down once more as he blindly tried to sit up and reach for his gun. "..But still just as much of an idiot as before." She added, John grunted harshly as she quickly pulled tight on a bandage she'd wrapped around his torso.

"Sorry." Nell winced, prodding once more around his eyebrow whilst avoiding his gaze which seemed to follow her gently.

"You should rest, John," She chided, pulling the firearm out of his reach, he frowned at her but laid back down. "I've sent Curly to tell Arthur where you are."

A silence settled over the trio and Harry took it as his queue to leave the pair alone, stepping a little outside to finish his cigarette.

"Where did you go?" John managed to ask a little later, almost fearing the silence that followed his question. Only the pain of his wounds lingered and he was unsure he'd ever hear her answer. "The war was over," he continued, "...you should've come home."

In the four years they'd been away in France he'd found he'd missed her more than anyone else.

He did not feel the splash of her tears on his jacket as his eyes grew heavier with every breath.

With one last glance at her blue eyes, that maybe hadn't changed as much as he had first thought, he drifted off - dreaming of Nellie Daniels and the life they could have lived before the war.

"You should sleep." Was all she eventually replied, turning away. Her brother wordlessly allowed her to retreat into her head, pondering her own thoughts of a life that maybe once could have been.

Because although she was back in Small Heath now - too much had changed... John would never find out the truth about why she hadn't come back to him, to Birmingham, after the war. Because the truth was. She had returned to small Heath. The only problem was when she'd rushed back to see the Shelby boys she called family, she found out that John Shelby had married Martha Stewart. And although John's happiness was paramount to her, she couldn't pretend; she couldn't stay when her heart was breaking. John's happiness was never something she would take away. So she returned to London, to the aftermath of war, to the war hospital she'd called home for three years and had been working for Tommy ever since.

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End file.
